


Needed

by tjs_whatnot



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark, Death Eaters, Ficlet, The Quidditch Pitch: Darkness Falls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-25
Updated: 2009-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-27 08:05:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10805121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjs_whatnot/pseuds/tjs_whatnot
Summary: Myrtle feels what it's like to be needed.Moaning Myrtle/Tom Riddle





	Needed

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Written for SortingHatDrabs at Live Journal's Riddle/Myrtle challenge. Prompt: Storm

“Don’t listen to them,” the voice slithered from behind, close to her ear, too close.

Her breath caught, her blood ran cold, but she was unable to move.

They were in the queue shuffling out of the greenroom after Herbology. A storm was coming; the clouds were heavy with moisture; the sky ablaze with lightning flashes. They stood at the opened door.

He continued. “They tell you you’re worthless.”

She nodded against her will, her shoulders relaxing slightly; his voice soothing her. She had heard about that voice, what it could do, how it could make you feel. She’d listen to the girls discuss it in bathrooms applying their lipstick, or in their dorm rooms checking their profiles in the full-length mirror. No one talked to Myrtle about these things; she was just there, unnoticed.

“But I know your worth.”

Her heart was beating so fast, but her mind was telling her that this was just another cruel trick. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him, to read his expression. She looked into his eyes and forgot her question for a minute. “Yeah?” she finally whispered.

He was so close, too close.

“Can I show you?” he asked, matching her whisper with a breathy one of his own, taking her hand in his and pulling gently.

The rain had started as they ran through the trees, protected by the canopy of leaves. They stepped into the meadow as a fork of lightning cut in front of them. Valiantly, Tom pinned her to a tree and stood before her to make sure she wasn’t struck.

Adrenaline surged through her as her heart beat throughout her entire body. For a split second, she looked into his eyes and saw a glint of red, but then it was gone and she felt his heart beating just as fast as hers.

The lightning moved off.

“Come. I need you.”

“You… need me?”

“Desperately.”

They ran to the castle, their bodies soaked through. Myrtle’s glasses fogged up instantly in the warmth of the castle. She imagined her mousy hair plastered to her head, her wet uniform sliding ridiculously down her plump hips.

They stopped running and she noticed where they were.

“Why are we in the girl’s bathroom?” she asked.

“Privacy,” he answered, pinning her to the door, removing her glasses. “Why were you crying in class?”

“Crying? I wasn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he commanded in a tone she hadn’t heard before. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Olive Hornby was teasing me and my glasses,” she whined.

“These?” he asked twirling the thick-lensed spectacles lazily. “You won’t need these.” He threw them over his shoulder.

“Hey, I do. I can’t see without them.”

He was right there in front of her, his nose touching hers. “The only thing you need to see is right here.”

His tongue slithered its way to her mouth. She moaned as she felt it slide inside her; swirling around her own. His hands were loosely around her neck, his thumbs caressing her pulse points as she opened herself wider to him.

After a long minute where Myrtle had to remind herself to keep breathing, Tom broke the kiss. Resting his damp forehead to hers, he ran his fingers along her pimpled jawbone. “So precious,” he whispered sibilantly.

“Me? Why?”

He looked in her eyes and again she detected a red tint to his eyes. Then he craned his neck oddly and began to hiss as if suddenly possessed.

“Tom, what’s are you doing?” she asked as he backed to the middle of the room. He continued to hiss and spit and Myrtle fell to the floor nervously and began searching frantically for her glasses. Something was happening; the hissing was getting louder, echoing, as if the walls themselves were talking to him.

She found her glasses and stood up to put them on. She looked up, her glasses still in her hand, but there was something there, in front of her and she couldn’t see it, but it was looking at her, the same red tint, and then she saw nothing at all.

“I told you I needed you,” were the last words she heard.


End file.
